


Of Dysfunctional AIs and Deaf Crewmen

by YourLocalPriestess



Series: Mass Effect Christmas [6]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Christmas Music, F/M, You've been warned, but this is pure fluff, if you couldn't already tell, set during ME2, this one's got some colorful language so if that's not your thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 18:51:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9085327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourLocalPriestess/pseuds/YourLocalPriestess
Summary: Otherwise known as, Shepard can never have enough coffee to be ready for Christmas.Day 27 of the ME Christmas Prompts: Christmas Songs!





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, all credit to potionsmaster, I definitely took part of the prompt and decided to write it. It was too funny to pass up. So go read her stuff. She is awesome-sauce. ^_^

_“Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way…”_

Shepard snapped to attention. The datapad she was holding dropped to the comforter on her bed with a thump. The music was so soft she almost thought – prayed – she’d imagined it.

_"Oh, what fun it is to ride on a one horse open sleigh…”_

“No…”

_"Hey! Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way…”_

Shepard jolted out of the bed a thrust her hand into one of her drawers, muttering curses all the while. The children’s choir continued in their singing and Shepard’s grumbling grew louder with each article of clothing she acquired.

“EDI,” she shouted.

“Commander Shepard.” The AI’s voice was as cool as ever. “How can I be of assistance?”

“Why, oh why, is there Christmas music playing?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand the question, Shepard.”

Shepard stopped mid-step to glare at the glowing orb of EDI’s interface. “The _music_ , EDI, that is _playing_ in my _cabin_.”

“Current settings in your cabin indicate no music playing from your speakers.”

Shepard straightened and ran a hand through her already unkempt red hair. She opened her mouth to berate the AI, but stopped at the sudden realization that it was right. There was no Christmas music playing, no children singing, no incessant bells tinkling. She shook her head and sighed, throwing her hair up in a short ponytail as she walked away from the console.

“Must have been a nightmare or some weird hallucination or something,” she muttered.

“My records show you haven’t been getting optimal levels of sleep, Commander.”

Shepard scoffed. “Not creepy at all.” She picked up her coffee mug and made her way to the elevator. “Thanks for your help, EDI,” she called over her shoulder as the doors began to close.

_“Silver bells, silver bells…”_

Shepard jolted so hard that she hit her head on the wall.

_“It’s Christmas time in the city.”_

“EDI!” she roared as the doors opened again.

“Yes, Shepard?”

“I don’t know if this is some sick joke, but cut it out, and cut the music.” She stormed into the hall and toward the mess. At this rate, she’d be carrying the whole damn pot around with her today.

“There is no music or other sounds playing over the ship’s coms.”

_"Soon it will be Christmas day.”_

Shepard leveled a glare at the ceiling as she finished her pour. “That’s bullshit.” She took a healthy gulp. “Bullshit,” she said again, louder this time. She took another sip and rounded on Gardner and the various others in the mess. “You telling me you guys don’t hear that?”

Gardner gave her a look like she was crazy, while the other crew members merely shrugged or did the same. Shepard groaned, downed the last of the cup, poured another, and drank half of it. “Fine,” she fumed. “I’ll have Tali run a diagnostic test since, apparently, my AI is dysfunctional and my crew is deaf.”

The only response to her veiled threat was the continued soft sound of Bing Crosby serenading them. Shepard cursed under her breath and marched to the elevator.

With every passing hour, Shepard felt her sanity slipping. Song after song cycled through, including varying renditions and genre interpretations, until they all blurred together into a single Christmas assault on her ears. Tali’s diagnostic had come back clean: EDI fully functional and, no, Shepard I can’t hear anything. Are you sure you’re alright? Samara stated that she could not hear outside noises when meditating. Thane said much the same. Zaeed ignored her questioning entirely in favor of an “Old Merc Christmas Classic,” which she did not deign to stick around for. Grunt was mumbling Christmas songs when she walked in and then she thought she’d finally won, finally found someone to verify the damnable music, but he starkly denied hearing it, claiming he was singing it form his own memory. The tank krogan. Singing Christmas songs. From memory. She threatened his life before storming out again. Jack was no better. “Fuck Christmas.” That was it. Miranda and Jacob shrugged off her questions. They were working on some new test biotic strategy. At that point Shepard thought she might actually be insane. Kasumi merely squealed in excitement, though said she hadn’t heard any yet, unfortunately.

Shepard, totally deflated, defeated, and any other “d” word that came to mind, made her trudge toward the battery. The door opened immediately. Garrus turned to her, familiar words about to play at his lips, before his mandibles feel slack and his eyes widened.

“Shepard?”

Her hair, pulled up hours ago before her hand had run through it countless times, barely hung contained in the tie; and what wasn’t contained lay in unseemly clumps that framed her face. Her eyes were haggard and bloodshot (that was how she imagined it) and her shoulders slumped.

“Garrus.” Her voice was soft, but intent. “Let me be very clear. If you do not answer my next question with total honesty, you can kiss any future excursions of reach and flexibility goodbye. Forever. Are we clear?”

He nodded, mandibles pulled tight to face as he waited.

“Good. Now,” she took a deep breath, “do you hear Christmas music?”

“Yes.”

Shepard blinked at him, and then sobbed. He let a strangled surprised noise and rushed up to her, wrapping his arms around her. She leaned up and pressed small kisses on every part of his face that she could reach before pulling back and grinning at him. He was staring at her, frozen, arms still wrapped around her. If she didn’t know better, she might have said he was blushing.

“Uhh…”

“Listen, every other motherfucker on this goddamn ship has lied to me or given me every other excuse in the book for _hours_. I thought I was losing my mind!” Her voice came out shriller than she intended, but she didn’t care. She leaned her head on her chest and sighed with relief.

Garrus’ chuckle rumbled low in his chest and vibrated against her skin, doing funny things to heartrate. “Shepard, it was just a prank.”

She pulled back to glare at him. “A prank.”

“Yes,” he laughed again. “Just a prank.”

“With Christmas music.”

“With Christmas music.”

Shepard wanted to wipe that smug look off his face and settled for glaring and weaseling out of his arms. “Well, it’s a stupid prank.”

She could see him trying to fight his grin now. It made her face flush. “I can see that.” There was a thrum of amusement in his voice that he couldn’t hide even if he wanted to. “Let’s just, uh, get you more coffee. You look like you could use it.”

“Don’t you think for a second that this conversation is over,” she said, wagging one finger at him while he placed a hand at the small of her back and guided her to the door. She opened her mouth to say more and was silenced by explosions of glitter and shouting.

Everyone was waiting for them in the mess, fully decked out in Christmas clothes, decorations, and food. The music played louder now, and everyone sang “Santa Baby” at the top of their lungs (nowhere near what could be called ‘on key’). Shepard covered her mouth and felt the corner of her eyes prick.

Garrus wrapped his arms around her waist from behind her. “Merry Christmas, Shepard.”

Shepard turned in his arms so she could press her forehead to his and hold him tighter. For this, she could tolerate the music.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to dedicate this fic to the late Carrie Fisher. Star Wars is near and dear to my heart as one of the first series I ever deeply cared about. I truly believe sci-fi would not be what it is today without her, among many others. The world is a little less bright today. May the force be with you all. 3


End file.
